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When I am on the hunt if I want fresh
I choose young, it is always fresher meat.
Young bunnies, squirrels, rats, moles, voles.
Tastier, and less of a struggle.
But when my mother’s heart catches their eye,
And I think for a second of my owlets, I sometimes
Let up, and go after something that has had more of a life.
Hoping I will not also catch their eye.
Injured meat is what I swoop for if I have had a long day
And I am tired. Injured meat is easier, struggles less, and
Has a unique fear-based taste that is a little saltier.
I think it is from their blood pumping so hard as they
Struggle to get away. When they see my wing shadow, they know.
The old ones are the easiest, no matter what animal I am
Hunting. At dusk or pure black of night, they are the easiest to take down.
I do not hunt much at dawn, as that is my sleeping time. The old ones
Are grateful when I snap them up. They are ready to be torn apart.
Their spirits are grateful for the relief.
The only problem with the old one’s meat is, that it is tough,
And grainy and is not as blood-tasty as the young or the injured.
My owlets cheer when I drop a young one into our nest. When it
Is an old one, they turn up their beaks. Act like I have failed them.
I am so proud when I run an animal down for them.
The animal sees my wing shadow, and it knows I am a fantastic mother.
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